I am insane. That's the only logical conclusion.
My goal is to start writing again.
This is what I did this weekend:
1. Clean the bathroom, start my Christmas Cake, and start laundry (Friday evening)
2. Go to the Farmer's Market (abortively), start organizing my desk and papers to clear space to write, start lasagne sauce, and then go to Yoga. (Saturday morning)
3. Go grocery shopping, finish laundry, make lasagne (from scratch, of course!), then head downtown to see a Vancouver Film Festival movie. (Saturday afternoon).
4. Fail to get tickets for the 4:30pm show. Buy tickets for the 6:30pm show instead. Spend the intervening two hours walking around downtown in the rain, along the seawall, with Harvey. Go to the (excellent) 6:30pm show. Buy Harv shoes on the way home. (Saturday evening)
5. Sleep in, go bird-watching at Terra Nova. (Sunday morning)
6. Bake Christmas cake. Freeze leftover lasagne. Prepare bread to bake in the bread-maker (I'm debugging a problem...). Put a roast chicken on to roast (with roast vegetables). Walk to the library to return books. Do a brief session of financial planning/review. (Sunday afternoon).
7. Make a soup (from scratch of course) to take for lunches for the week. Eat supper. Eat bread. Help clean up the extensive set of dirty dishes. (Sunday evening)
8. Wonder where the weekend went, and why I never have time to write.
